Amazing Grace
by CerapinTech
Summary: A once great and feared leader finds himself lying in the snow, even as it drains his strength and threatens to take his life as well. He curses the world as darkness overtakes him, but when he wakes up, Amazing Grace greets him in the form of a secluded woman who won't stop singing. His beliefs are put in question as this woman makes an impact like none other.
1. Prologue

Prologue

The metal bird flew blew smoke and spun out of control as it took a direct hit. The impact shook the craft and something fell from the open side door. The helicopter managed to regaining altitude and flew away, followed closely by its assailants in another air craft.

Crashing through trees, breaking branches and cracking bones, the man landed in deep snow. He tried to get back up, but pain drew black spots across his vision and the metal he wore weighed him down.

He panted from exertion and pain as he cursed his enemies and their interference. He cursed the subordinates that did nothing but fail him. He cursed the sun for shining, the trees for standing, the snow for being cold. He cursed until he could speak no more. Even then, his thoughts were filled with curses until the metal armour greedily sucked in the surrounding chill and forced it onto his body until he could no longer feel his cracked bones and bruised body.

His consciousness faltered. With a final curse upon his own weakness, the man's thoughts passed into the dream world. With faltering breath, and a slowing heartbeat, it wouldn't be long until death overtook the man in his weakened state. But fate would not yield this life just yet.

The trees rustled, the snow crunched, a form dodged around a large trunk and stopped short upon seeing the strange metal man laying helpless in the snow. Hefting the bag slung over her shoulder, a woman ran to the man's side and breathed a sigh on relief as she saw a small plume of white breath on the cold winter air.

She dumped collected fire wood from her sled before securing the man in place. Leaning into her steps, the woman dragged the metal man over the snow and towards the isolated cabin deep in the mountains that she called home.

* * *

 **A/N** : New story. I know, short prologue. A little different that what I've done so far, so don't expect as much action as some of my other stuff. And I'm not sure how often it will be updated, but I figured it's been awhile since I posted something so, here ya go.


	2. Chapter 1- Amazing Grace

**A/N:** Chapter 1 to get this thing rolling.

* * *

Chapter 1-Amazing Grace

He returned to the conscious realm slowly, waking up from a sleep that had lasted too long. A numbness encompassed his body, sending tingling pulses over his arms and legs. He couldn't feel much, other than a slight warmth. But he couldn't tell where it was coming from.

He tried to open his eyes, to look for the source of the warmth, but they wouldn't obey his commands. He tried to move an arm, but received the same disobedience. More attempts were made, but all resulted in the same outcome; even his body had betrayed him.

Thoughts of self-disappointment filled his mind as his strength faded with his failed attempts at movement, and he once again faded from the waking world.

 **Oo-oO**

 _Amazing Grace, how sweet the sound_

 _That saved a wretch like me_

 _I once was lost, but now I'm found_

 _Was blind but now I see._

 **Oo-oO**

He woke again to the sound of music. The ancient song dancing through his mind, promising salvation and peace. How he loathed it.

His body obeyed him this time, and his eyes reluctantly slid open. He was met by the sight of well worn wooden rafters. A fire was lit in a stove close by, providing the warmth he remembered from his dreams.

He couldn't turn his head; it was too weak. Pathetic. How could one as powerful as he be reduced to a pitiful state such as this. Unable to move, unable to fight, unable to tame to fires that raged fiercely in his soul. They demanded action, to move and seek out his enemies and to teach them what happens when they defy the Oroku Saki.

 **Oo-oO**

 _Twas grace that taught, my heart to fear_

 _And grace my fears, relieved_

 _How precious did that grace appear_

 _The hour I first believed._

 **Oo-oO**

That irritating song still fills the warm room. He tries to locate its source, but he still cannot turn his head. All he can see is the wooden room he occupied.

Cabin.

The word bounces around his head as he realizes what sort of place he found himself in. Why was he in a cabin? The last thing he remembers was . . . the helicopter. Those blasted turtles had followed him as he took to the air and damaged his helicopter, sending him tumbling out and crashing into the unknown forest.

But now where was he?

What had happened to the helicopter? Where were his soldiers? Shouldn't they have found him by now? And what had become of those interfering reptiles? _Were they still alive?_

Too many questions.

 **Oo-oO**

 _My chains are gone, I've been set free_

 _My God, my Saviour, has ransomed me_

 _And like a flood, his mercy rains_

 _Unending love, Amazing Grace_

 **Oo-oO**

Grace? Love? What utter nonsense. There is no salvation in this life, only pain, suffering, and vengeance. He will destroy those who have wronged him. He will tear apart the one who destroyed his life, lied to him, who tricked him into thinking they were allies and worse, brothers.

No, no amount of mercy will save him, nothing will be able to break the chains that bind him, and no God will be there to liberate this hatred festering deep in his very being. It had been planted too long ago, has fed and grown on his dark thoughts and longing for blood. Hatred had taken full control of his soul, and he reveled in it.

 **Oo-oO**

 _The Lord has promised good to me_

 _His word, my hope secured_

 _He will my shield, and portion be_

 _As long as life endures_

 **Oo-oO**

It's coming from nearby. His mind more aware than it used to be. The notes of a piano mix with the voice of a woman. Soft and gentle, although not a very good voice, it at least remained on key.

Not that he really cared. He just wanted it to stop. He loathed the spiritual song promising goodness and freedom. Such things are fleeting in this world, and not his priorities. He sought destruction, not false promises of hope.

What would it even mean to believe in a God? To have someone watching over you, and protecting you from that which would destroy you?

Nonsense. There is no point in such thoughts because there is no God. So he turned his thoughts to what he knew.

Making others suffer.

Taking vengeance on those who wronged him.

Hatred.

Red hot, burning hatred.

 **Oo-oO**

 _My chains are gone, I've been set free_

 _My God, my Saviour, has ransomed me_

 _And like a flood, his mercy rains_

 _Unending love, Amazing Grace_

 **Oo-oO**

No, there is no God. There is no Freedom. There is no Grace that will make everything right. There is only the pain that this life brings. And he will spread the pain and hatred as his vendetta demands.

He will destroy the one he once called brother. He will destroy the abominations the he calls his sons. He will bring down the last remainders of the clan who made a fool of him, and his empire shall rise in its place.

But then the song shifted, became softer and he found himself relaxing ever so slightly. The fast paced, powerful words died away into a new promise.

 **Oo-oO**

 _The Earth shall soon dissolve like snow_

 _The sun forebear to shine_

 _But God, who called me here below_

 _Will be forever mine_

 _. . ._

 _Will be forever mine_

 _. . ._

 _You are forever mine._

 **Oo-oO**

"Oh, you're awake."

* * *

Song: Amazing Grace (My Chains Are Gone) by Chris Tomlin


	3. Chapter 2-The Great Adventure

**A/N** : Thanks to requests coming in, I've remembered about this little piece. While I've never thought of leaving this unfinished, I have found other projects that have stolen my attention. But I'm back! So enjoy the journey into the mind of the villain.

* * *

Chapter 2-The Great Adventure

The world was hazy. Blurry images moved sluggishly, leering over him, touching him. His body wouldn't move. That's right, he couldn't move. And it was hot. Too hot. He blinked a few times, trying to make the world clear until he could vaguely make out the form of a person above him. He was lying on his back and someone was looking down on him.

 _How dare they. . . look down on me._ His weak mind managed before the world blurred out again. It was hot. Why was it so hot? But there was something cool and wet on his brow, dripping down his scarred face where hair would no longer grow.

". . ."

He could hear someone talking, but couldn't make out the words. Was it the person standing over him? Were they talking to him?

" _Nani_?" (*What?) he croaked. " _Do shita no?_ (*What's going on?) _Kore wa dokodesu ka?_ (*Where is this?) _"_

"Oh, God," the voice became clearer. "Is that Japanese? I don't know Japanese. And I haven't watched anime in years."

" _Do shita no?"_ he repeated, blinking furiously. There was a sharp ache in his legs and prickles in his fingers, not to mention the bruising he could feel all over.

"Why doesn't real life have subtitles," the voice said again, and his brain jumped the language barrier.

"Where is this? What is going on?" he rumbled from a dry throat, his voice raspy between gasping breaths. Why was it so hard to breathe?

"Oh thank God, you speak English," the voice, a woman's voice, filtered through his foggy mind. "I found you in the forest. You were hurt, so I brought you back to my cabin," she explained in voice louder than she should. "You've broken your legs and bruised pretty much your whole body, not to mention the frost bite. Why were you wearing metal in the middle on winter out here? If I was any later, you'd be dead."

"Where is this?" he managed to say again. It was too hot and his ragged breathes started to become more desperate.

"My cabin's on the north side of the park," the woman said. "About an hour drive from the main building."

"Don't play games, girl?" he said, getting frustrated. "Where is this?!"

"Writes Wood."

"And where is that?"

"Shawinigan, Quebec."

"Quebec?"

"Yeah, like, in Canada."

"Why am I in Canada?"

"Um, I don't know. Where are you from?"

"I was in New York."

"Like New York, New York, or just somewhere in the state of New York?"

The ridiculousness of the question stopped him short, and he looked at her, seeing her for the first time. She had long brown hair that had long since outgrown its hair style, dull brown eyes and a plain face to go with her plain, faded blue shirt. Nothing really special about the way she looks. She seemed a little flustered, nervous. She fidgeted with her hands and kept glancing over him. But then her face seemed to stretch. Her eyes grew wide and her hair danced around her face. The world seemed to tilt and blur. The heat washed over him in a wave and the pain from his body bombarded his mind.

 _This is nothing. Pain is nothing._ The mantra he'd used so many times in the past came back to him, repeating in an endless loop.

The woman's question remained unanswered when she noticed his predicament. "You should try and get some more rest."

He grunted and forced his eyes into focus. He will not let them disobey this time. But while his eyes focused, the world continued to spin around him. And it was still hot.

"Oh yeah, here," the woman pressed something against his lips and fresh, liquid relief splashed down his throat. He drank from the cup as the woman continued to babble. "Like I said, you're hurt pretty badly and you were running a fever. It seems to have gone down a bit, but I'm not really a doctor. So, you should try and sleep some more until the doctor can get here. Should be able to by tomorrow if the storm lets up."

He grimaced at the thought of needing some strangers help. But the heat was becoming unbearable, and his legs were hurting something terrible. The pins and needles feeling in his hands was gone, but he wasn't sure if that was a good thing or not, since he couldn't feel much of anything with them at this point.

In fact, all he could do was fight against the wave of nausea and the beckoning call back into oblivion. A battle, he was ashamed to admit, that he lost to not long after that.

The woman watched the strange man as his face set in a scowl slowly fell back into a restless sleep. Although his features did relax a bit, the scowl was still present. She sighed, glancing over at the pile of metal that the man once wore. She had managed to remove it, pouring water over the places where flesh had fused with the metal, trying to separate the two without ripping the skin. There were a few patches of raw skin on the man's lower and arms where the armour was in direct contact with the skin.

She examined the shining spikes and deadly blades that sat on the other side of the room and felt a small tremor rack through her body. Was it really wise to bring such a man into her house? But she shook the thought from her head. It was no accident that she had found his, she was sure of it. With this resolution, she returned her gaze to the man restlessly sleeping in front of her.

She placed a hand on the wet cloth on his forehead, feeling it was once again warm, she dunked it into a bowl on the bedside table before replacing.

"And here starts the beginning of a new adventure," she shook her head and reached over to the docking station where an iPod sat. She pressed play on the song that was last playing.

 **Oo-oO**

 _Saddle up your horses_

 _We got a trail a blaze_

 _Woah-oh-oh_

 _Through the wild blue yonder_

 _Of God's Amazing Grace  
_

 _Let's follow our leader_

 _Into the glorious unknown_

 _(Through the glorious unknown)_

 _This is a life like no other_

 _Woah-Oh_

 _This is the Great Adventure_

 **Oo-oO**

"Lord, I will follow you where you lead me, and you have led me to this man. I will show this man kindness as you have showed me grace. Help me when times get tough and protect me from the evils that lie in this world. Use me to make this world a better place, to bring light to the ones lost in the dark. And let me lean on you through this life, because I know you will always be by my side. I pray that I never forget this, even when the snow melts and my troubles begin once again."

The woman let the music on play quietly as she sat by the man's side. Outside the window, she watched the blizzard howl past, trying to steal the warmth locked away in her little cabin.

"And I pray that this storm will pass quickly and that Doc Martin can get out here safely."

* * *

 **A/N:** Song, The Great Adventure by Steven Curtis Chapman


	4. Chapter 3- 10, 000 Reasons

**A/N** : Sorry for the wait again, but like I said, I will not be abandoning this story but I'm almost ashamed to admit that I've been sucked into the One Piece fandom and have like, 5 story ideas for that, so we'll see what happens. So to the guest that keeps reviewing the same chapter under different names, thank you for your input, it really helps me get going, but maybe try to space them out more than just five minutes?

Anyway, now this is getting long so bare with me. I've found this fic to be a little more challenging, because I can write a bunch of different scenes and interactions between Shredder and my OC, but they aren't in chronological order. As soon as I get the story set, I think I'll be pumping out chapters a little faster. But that, of course, is coming from the person who lives off procrastination. So Sorry. This will definitely NOT be regular updates.

But enough pointless crap, on with the show!

* * *

Chapter 3

"Good," a man said. "If anything changes, call me right away."

"And when he wakes up, call me," another man said.

"Don't try to do too much on your own," the first man said again. "Despite his condition, we have no idea who he is or what he's capable of. Stay safe, Alice."

"Thanks Martin," the woman replied.

"Don't do anything stupid," the second man called.

"Goodbye, Benjamin," she scoffed.

"Don't call me that," he frowned.

The door opened with a gust of wind, blowing the cold air into the cabin. The fire flickered in the stove, and a shiver ran through the sleeping man. The woman barred the door as it closed, making sure it wouldn't blow open on it's own, before stoking the fire, adding a few more logs before setting a pot of water on top to boil.

Finished with her chores, she slumped into a comfy chair and pulled an oversized, hardcover book onto her lap with a golden printed title and thick pages. She opened the book to where she left an old piece of cardboard as a book mark and subconsciously reached over to turn on her music once again. The song played softly as she lost herself in her book

 **Oo-oO**

 _The sun comes up, it a new day dawning_

 _It's time to sing your song again_

 _Whatever may pass and whatever lies before me_

 _Let me be singing when the evening comes_

 **Oo-oO**

Despite the charade, the man who only appeared to be sleeping grimaced at the sound of yet another song filling the silence. He had woken up to the sound of the door bursting open and the rush of cold infiltrating his warm haven. A doctor accompanied by another man had come to inspect his condition. None of them noticed that he was awake, and it stayed that way. All the better to collect information. According to the doctor, he had sustained broken legs, fractured ribs, gash on his right calf, various degrees of frost bite and a mild case of hypothermia. It was worse than he thought. He couldn't walk with broken legs, at least that's what logic told him.

In the end, it was deemed that he wasn't fit to be moved. They were apparently somewhere deep in the forest. Somewhere that emergency vehicles couldn't easily access, made all the more impossible by the recent snow storm. Just his luck, although he couldn't see himself lying in a hospital bed just waiting around for himself to heal. But it would be harder for his forces to find him here.

The man that accompanied the doctor had been most irritating, insisting that they call the police and let them deal with the strange man. The woman had straight out refused, saying something about a calling or her duty as something or other. He didn't fail to notice that she left out the part about him being dressed in Japanese battle armour, and wasn't sure what to make of that.

The woman seemed to be harmless enough. She was simply trying to be the good Samaritan, helping those in need. It made him sick; a weak human thinking she can help someone as mighty as him.

But in the end, she had.

 **Oo-oO**

 _Bless the Lord, Oh my soul, O my soul_

 _Worship his Holy name_

 _Sing like never before, Oh, my soul_

 _I'll worship his holy name_

 **Oo-oO**

The woman started singing again, under her breath. With a mind clear of delusions and fever, he was able to get a proper look at her from the corner of his eye. Like he thought before, she was a rather plain woman, dressed in plain clothes.

It was unnerving. This woman, what are her motives? Why would she help a complete stranger, bring him back to her home and care for him? He had not seen naivety like this since . . .

An image of another woman, long since departed, appeared in his head and a familiar stab of sadness and betrayal hit his gut. Why was he thinking of the kind and gentle Tang Shen? What brought on these memories? This woman was nothing like her.

He inspected the woman again, hunched over her book, lips forming voiceless words to the song playing in the background.

 **Oo-oO**

 _You're rich in love and your slow to anger_

 _Your name is great and your heart is kind_

 _For all your goodness I will keep on singing_

 _10,000 reasons for my heart to find_

 **Oo-oO**

The woman was stuck in her book and paying him no mind. He took the opportunity and risked moving around. His injuries screamed in protest, but he endured it, the same way he endured as the reset his bones while keeping up the front unconsciousness. He raised his head, to his ribs protests, and peered around the room.

At first glance, he confirmed that he was indeed in a sort of cabin. Quite a cluttered room. There was the door the two men had entered and exited from, the entrance still wet with snow. There was a thick mat on the ground to soak up any moisture that invaded and a coat rack holding various winter paraphernalia. At the back of the cabin were two doors that seemed to open up into the rest of the cabin, more private spaces, although he wasn't sure who there was to be private from. An old looking piano was set up against this back wall, which must have been where he heard the music from . . . or was that a dream?

The woman's chair was located at the foot of his bed, where a sort of living area was set up with an old television, a couch to go with the woman's recliner, beyond that was a wooden table set with three chairs that seemed to have been taken from different places at different times. The table itself was littered with papers and books some organized more neatly and some just strewn in places. Behind the table, almost an entire wall was lined with book shelves all stuffed full of books of different sizes and colours, most of which looked like reference books, textbooks, containing knowledge instead of stories. This sparked a memory.

The doctor, during his visit, had mentioned an attic, and warned the woman not to go up there while there was a patient, lest she release something that would inhibit his recovery. He cast his eyes to the roof, and spotted the small square panel that led to the upper space, with a step ladder leaning against the wall nearby. He wondered what mysteries were up there, and why the woman wasn't permitted to 'play in her lab', as the doctor said, while he was recovering. What sort of woman is she?

The song played on in the background building in volume as the second verse finished and chorus repeated. The woman turned the page of her book, readjusting her grip on the hard cover and propping it up slightly. He strained his eyes to peer at the golden letters printed on the cover. He could make out the word ' _Infection'_ , and was instantly on guard.

This must be the reason she has secluded herself out in the middle of a forest. She must be conducting some sort of experiments on human disease in an isolated area where no one will be exposed to the dangers of her work. He wondered momentarily if he would be able to use her research to aid him in his vendetta.

Perhaps she was working on a pathogen that could kill a man in seconds. Maybe a method to infect a large number of people with an incurable disease. Or better yet, something that would prolong suffering, causing the utmost amount of pain before finally eating through the skull and spilling liquefied brain on the ground.

He smiled at the thought of pain, suffering and death and imagined the face of the rat he once called brother being destroyed by each and every one.

 **Oo-oO**

 _Bless the Lord, Oh my soul, O my soul_

 _Worship his Holy name_

 _Sing like never before, Oh, my soul_

 _I'll worship his holy name_

 **Oo-oO**

The woman was singing again, lost in the song. Her book fell into her lap, and her eyes had strayed to the window above his bed. Her gaze was far away as she declared her faith in the God he would never care to know.

But then the powerful words of her song faded into a soft promise.

 **Oo-oO**

 _And on that day when my strength is failing_

 _The end draws near and my time has come_

 _Still my soul will sing you praise unending_

 _10,000 years and then forever more_

 **Oo-oO**

Even on her death bed, she promises to never falter. To never stop. To always persist. In this way, he guessed they were the same. He decided long ago that he would never falter in his quest for vengeance. To never stop the chase until his prey was caught. And to always persist until he had his revenge.

They may come from different sides of the spectrum, but they shared the same determination. He could respect that. But a song is just a song. She'll have to do more than just recite lyrics before he would come to recognize her ambition.

" _Lord, I'll worship your holy name_." The song finished and the woman's eyes fell from the window and back the book that lay in her lap. She fingered the thick pages, deep in thought. But the bubbling pot of now boiling water on the stove had her jumping to her feet and rushing over.

 _This will be interesting,_ he thought as he closed his eyes again.

* * *

 **A/N:** Song: 10,000 Reasons by Matt Redman


	5. Chapter 4- Never Gonna Stop Singing

**A/N:** Once again, to the guest that keeps reviewing: I enjoy how much you love this story, but honestly if you're just bugging me to update, just send a PM. And in response to your latest question, no this is not necessarily a Shred x OC story, but you can read as much into it as you want.

* * *

Chapter 4

He woke up again to the sun shining through the window above him, splaying shadows of half melted water droplets over the bedspread keeping him warm. The serene landscape of a snow covered forest could be made out in the not to far distance with fresh tracks in the snow. He relaxed against the pillow and just reveled in the moment of peace.

It had been too long since he had a moment of relaxing silence. He closed his eyes and opened his senses to the world around him. The fire crackled strongly in the stove, blanketing him in its warmth and sending a smoky sent into the air. The bed underneath him wasn't soft, but it was firm. Outside, he could feel the vibrations of something moving around. Was it an animal? Was it the woman? Reminding himself of the woman, he opened his eyes and cast his gaze around the cabin once more, but she could not be seen.

He almost jumped when the silence was broken by the crash of an opening door. Almost. Behind him, a door that he hadn't even noticed, swung open wildly and crashed into the wall as the woman kicked it open and slid back into the cabin with an armload of firewood. She kicked the door closed with her foot before dumping her load into a rack with a dwindling supply of firewood beside the stove.

" _We're never gonna stop singing,_ " she sang to herself as she poked the fire with a metal rod before closing the stove door. _"We're gonna lift you higher, higher. Hearts burning bright like a fire, fire._ _Voices unite, make it louder, louder. We're never gonna stop singing."_

She spun around and slid to the rhythm of the song. Tapping her foot she kept going. " _Every tribe, every tongue, every heart will sing. Every knee we will bow, to the risen King. Lift him up, lift him up, we're never gonna stop—"_

Her eyes latched onto the motionless figure that was no longer asleep and her body froze, despite what she was just singing, with her arms stretched out and her toe in mid air.

He, in turn, simple stared back.

" _. . . Never gonna stop singing,_ " she finished, although much quieter than before. She tucked her arms behind her back and crossed one leg behind the other. "Did I wake you up?"

He examined the woman standing before him. His earlier assessment still hadn't changed. The woman was plain with nothing really standing out about her. But he never judged people by the way they looked. He judged them by their usefulness. But the way she was looking at him in that moment caught him off guard; she almost looked sheepish.

He was used to people looking at him in fear. With his dominating aura, legions of soldiers under his command, and his own skill as a ninja to back up his reputation, there were few who looked upon his face, hidden in the shadows on his helmet, with anything other than fear.

But then again, he wasn't wearing his helmet. His face wasn't hidden. In that case, people would wear different expressions of revulsion, sometimes pity, when they saw the mess that was once a human face but now scarred by the one he hunts.

But this woman showed neither fear nor pity in her expression. It perplexed him as he answered her question, "No."

"Oh, good," she smiled and walked over to his bed side, reaching to feel his forehead. "How ya feeling?"

"Fine," he answered. Which was not entirely true. His injuries were throbbing, and it was a little hard to breathe, but it wasn't as stiflingly hot as when he was woken up earlier.

"Yeah," she said skeptically, raising her eyebrows, "right." She gave him a once over before she dragged a nearby chair over. She sat back and propped her feet up on the bed, careful to avoid his broken leg. "Don't know how much you remember from the last time you woke up," she started again. "But I'm Alice. I found you out in the woods when I was out collecting wood, which was odd because it's the middle of winter, and you were wearing a metal suit type thing and you were almost dead. But hey. I brought you back here and called the doctor, said you got a busted leg, cracked ribs and other stuff. We're pretty deep in the woods here, and with the recent storm, there's too much snow to get a rescue vehicle up here. So bottom line is, we're stuck with each other for the next bit."

"How long?"

"Who knows," the woman shrugged. "Depends on how fast the snow melts . . . or how fast you heal. You know, which ever happens first."

A silence stretched between them as he scrutinized the woman who sat so casually beside his bed. A little too casually. Who was she to invite a strange man into her home, to care for him, to not inform the authorities of this highly suspicious man?

His thoughts went to his earlier train of thought. If she truly was doing some sort of research on infections, what if he was her next test subject?

Despite the ridiculousness of the thought, he couldn't help but become suspicious. What were her motives?

"Why?" he found himself croaking out, his throat very dry but he paid it no mind.

"Why what?"

"Why did you help me?"

The woman looked at him with disbelief. "Uh, maybe cuz you were dying."

"That's all?"

"Should there be another reason?"

"In my line of work, things aren't usually so straight forward."

"And what line of work are you in? By the look of the outfit you had on, I'm guessing you weren't selling cars."

"I carry out my own plans to achieve my goals."

". . . Right," the woman gave him a cursory glance before suddenly popping back up onto her feet. "Hungry? Got some soup on the stove."

Before he could say anything, he was propped up against the head board with a bowl of steaming broth in front of him. _Infection_ , playing through his mind and he couldn't help but be weary, despite the soft rumbling of his stomach.

"What is it you do up here, so deep in the forest?" he asked, trying to dig a little.

"Hm?" the woman looked over from her little kitchenette where she was serving herself a bowl from the same pot. He waited until she was sitting again and scooped the first spoonful into her mouth before he started eating his own. "I own Writes Wood, that's what the park's called. My uncle left it to me in his will almost fifteen years ago. I was going through a rough patch at the time, so I decided to make a new start, run the park, do a little research—"

"Research?" he interrupted. He didn't think it would be that easy for her to admit it. "What sort of research?"

Her eyes seemed to light up at the mention of it. "You wanna know? Well, I'm a sort of mycologist."

"A what?"

"Mycologist. I study fungi."

"You mean to tell me that you're living out in the middle of the forest to look at mushrooms?"

"Not just mushrooms, all fungi. Even some of the imposters, I do love a good slime mould. They're so fun."

". . . ?" He didn't know what to make of this. Here he though that he'd found an interesting woman researching biological weapons in the deep woods, only to have his fantasies shattered by mushrooms. "What about that book you were reading? It said something about infections."

"Oh, the big red one?" she bent over and picked up the book and lifted it up for him to see. On the front was a picture of a tree with small mushrooms growing out of the base. Above the picture, in gold writing, read: _Fungal Infections of Eastern Canadian Forests._ "It's one of the best books about fungi infecting trees. Got just about everything in here."

 _Great,_ he thought. It's not like he could destroy Yoshi with mushrooms, unless he tried poisoning him . . . but where's the satisfaction in that.

In the mean time, it looked liked he'd gotten himself stuck in a rather unfortunate situation. Broken legs, no mobility, no contact with his forces, only a dull woman for company, constant singing and mushrooms to top it all off. He could honestly say that he'd never seen this coming.

Where were those useless subordinates of his?

* * *

 **A/N:** Song: Never Gonna Stop Singing by Jesus Culture


	6. Chapter 5-TETRIS

Chapter 5: TETRIS

"Here, you ever play?" the woman tossed him a rectangular object which he caught with his ninja reflexes. He stared at the small gaming controller then back up to the woman who was hooking up the gaming console to the television.

"I don't anymore," he replied, dropping the controller beside him. "It's a child's toy."

"Come on," the woman urged as the game loaded on the screen. "Don't be boring."

A familiar tune started playing and a pixilated castle appeared on the screen with the bolded letters spelling out the name of the game: TETRIS, played on the original Nintendo gaming system. Of course, he remembered the game, but it wasn't as if he actually spent time with electronics as a kid. There were more important things to do, such as train.

The screen split into two sections and the tiles started to fall. The woman expertly navigated her blocks to fit into perfect piles and erased row after row. The blocks on the other side simply accumulated and he topped out without even touching the controller. The woman would be declared the victor after he topped out and would go back to the level screen.

"It's no fun playing alone," the woman said as she started a new game.

"I don't play games," he said again and turned away from the television.

"What's the matter, scared you're going to lose?" the woman baited.

"Hardly," he said, not falling for it. "I don't need to prove to myself that I can play a child's game."

"Perhaps you're scared that you'll lose at a child's game."

". . . Why are you doing that?"

"Doing what?"

"Trying to be friendly?"

"Because we're stuck with each other," the woman said, and erased four lines at once, just as his side topped out. "Besides, it's not like you have anything else to do. You can't move, I don't think you'd like my selection of mycology and biology textbooks, and I don't take you as the type to just do nothing."

"So your solution is to play a child's game?"

"I'd hardly call it a child's game. It takes skill, speed and precision, especially in the higher levels. It gets going so fast that you barely have time to think about where you're putting the blocks."

"If I play, will you stop your rambling?"

"Maybe," she smiled and started another game. He grimaced and picked up the controller.

"Why do you make them fall faster?" he asked after a few minutes of play. "Won't you last longer if you just let it fall naturally?"

"You'd last longer, but you get more points when you force it down. And we're scored by points, not how long we last."

"And you always leave one column open on the far side. . ."

"So that when you get the long, straight one, you can erase four lines at once. The more lines you do at a time, the more points you'll get for each line."

"This is more complex than it seems."

"Look who's getting into this."

"What does that mean?"

"It means that you, Mr. Serious, are enjoying playing a child's game."

"This isn't playing," he countered. "It's training."

"Training?"

"Yes, training."

"Hmm. . ."

 **Oo-oO**

"So, what?" she asked as they ate dinner later that night. "You're a ninja from Japan?"

"The head of the all-powerful Foot Clan," he told her and balked when she started laughing. "What is so funny?"

"It's just," she tried to calm down. "It just sounds so serious when you say it."

"It is serious."

"So you say you're from Japan," she said, putting that aside. "But before you said you were in New York, but you somehow ended up in Quebec."

"I have business to take care of in New York," he said, darkly. "Business that has been on hold for far too long. I was well on my way to completing it when my enemies showed up."

"Enemies?" she wondered. "People actually have enemies?"

"They ruined everything. Everything I'd built up to now has been destroyed by them. I'll have to restart it all. Back to square one."

"Sounds rough."

"Such hardships are nothing."

"You're pretty strong, aren't you?"

"The strongest. And one day, I'll prove it."

"Must be nice, to always believe you can do anything."

"What are you getting at?"

"Hm? Oh, nothing. Just thinking out loud."

He inspected her as she took silent bites of her diner beside his bed. He had noticed it before, a lingering something behind her so called happy façade. There was something she had buried deep, something that wouldn't be brought back up easily. But it wasn't up to him to pry.

 **Oo-Oo**

She stood outside in the night air, the cloudless sky hanging above her. The stars were bright and numbered in the thousands. You could only see such a brilliant sky out here, where there were no city lights or pollutants mucking up the air. She breathed in and let her breath cloud in front of her face.

The man was asleep in the cabin, or at least, he probably was. She found that he liked to pretend to be asleep when he thought she didn't know better. It probably had something to do with his abilities as a ninja.

Oh Lord, a ninja. And not just any ninja, but the head of a ninja clan! With enemies that had destroyed everything he'd worked for!

"What have I gotten myself into?" she wondered aloud. "Lord, why did you bring me to this man? He seems like the dangerous type, and by the look of his scars he's seen a lot. But I know you'll keep me safe, so just help me out here. Tell me what I'm supposed to do. Or am I already doing it?"

A gentle wind was her only answer.

* * *

 **A/N:** Song, TETRIS theme.


	7. Chapter 6-It is Well

**Chapter 6**

He closed his eyes and tried to concentrate.

Meditation. When you take control of your body and you become closer with your soul. He focused his energy into his broken bones, hoping to speed the healing process so he could get out of this place and back to what mattered; destroying Hamato Yoshi.

Music filled the air as the woman began playing that wretched piano. But he was master of his surroundings and his mind and he was easily able to block it out.

" _The grander earth has quaked before. . ._

 _Moved by the sound of his voice._

 _And seas that are shaken and stirred. . ._

 _Can be calmed and broken for my regard"_

Her light voice accompanied the melodic notes and he found himself unable to ignore it. It lulled him into a sense of peace and he felt his body relax.

" _Through it all, through it all,_

 _My eyes are on you._

 _And through it all, through it all_

 _It is Well._

 _Through it all, through it all,_

 _My eyes are on you_

 _And It is Well . . ._

 _With me."_

The promise that someone will never leave, that someone is always looking after you, that everything will be alright. . . How foolish. There will always be someone who will leave you in the end. You are alone in this life and nothing will change that. It is _not_ well. Not at all.

He pushed the woman's voice to the far reaches of his consciousness and delved farther within himself.

 **Oo-oO**

"Come on," the woman chided. "Tell me something about yourself I don't know."

He thought for a moment and opened his mouth to share when she interrupted him again.

"Something that doesn't include how powerful your ninja clan is, or some legendary weapon you obtained, or some secret technique you learned from a hermit you had to travel three days through the desert on foot to find."

He closed his mouth and racked his brain for something. His eyes drifted around the small log room, cluttered with books and papers, yet still maintaining a sort of order that makes sense only to her. His eyes passed by the book shelf of research he will never care to understand, the table where she sits and reads her books. His gaze lingers on the piano where such beautiful sounds are created. Carved simply from wood stained a deep brown with ivory keys that were chipped here and there, there were a few items resting on the top, including a few old pictures in simple frames showing a number of different people that she had known and loved throughout her life. And it had him remembering the few people he ever cared for.

"I have a daughter," he said, his eyes far off in the distance.

"Really," she breathed, surprised by the change in the man she'd always known as hard and unbreaking. Seeing him now revealed the cracks in the cold, fierce mask he always seemed to wear. She smiled at the little fragment of his softer side and urged him onward, "Tell me about her."

"She is a leader; strong in body and mind, driven by her passion, and always victorious. She is still a child but is always running off to prove that she can accomplish anything. She has her own views and morals that do not always follow my plan, and she acts on them despite what I want. She is strong willed and won't bend to other people's whims, especially my own. She is all that keeps me going sometimes, and it sometimes seems like I am losing her."

"Sounds like a teenager to me," she smiled. "I worry for the day she brings a boy home." He growled at that, his scared face twisting into a mangled mess as the image of such a creature passes through his mind. "I take it there _is_ a boy then," she giggles. "And he doesn't meet your expectations."

"There is no room in this line of work for such a relationship," he growled, hands balling up the bedsheets in his fist.

"Is that so?" She said with a quirked eyebrow. "Then how is it that your daughter came to be? There must have been a woman in your life, if I've got my biology right."

A pit fell in his stomach as fresh pain spread in his chest as he remembered the only woman he truly loved. "Tang Shen," he whispered her name as he remembered her kind smile. In his moment of weakness, he let emotion fill his voice, sharing the longing and pain that came with these memories. The wonderful love he felt for the woman who captured his affections, the rivalry he had with his brother to see who would win her heart in return, and the betrayal when he was the one who lost.

"Tang Shen," she repeated, letting the name fill with warmth as the simple words bounced around the cabin. "What was she like?"

The bitterness fell away as he remembered the better times. "Just like her daughter." Was all he could say before he rolled over on the bed, not able to talk about it. She took that as her cue and left him to his thoughts. She took up her rocking chair with a small paper back cradled in her lap; a novel in place of the usual textbook.

He glanced over his shoulder at her rocking silently, her eyes turned toward her book, but not really seeing the words printed on the pages. He wondered again if she had her own story. But it was probably nothing like his. Hers wouldn't hold the same love, the same feud, the same bitterness . . . the same shame.

Shame?

For the first time since the fire, Oroku Saki realized that he felt shame for what he had done. He had stolen the child that was not his, and twisted her into believing lies, turned her into a soldier that wasn't supposed to feel, and used her in a plot of his own revenge. It wasn't supposed to be like this. He wasn't supposed to regret what he did. He was supposed to laugh at Yoshi as his own daughter destroyed what was left of his pathetic life and the new family he had found. But instead of seeing his vengeance fulfilled, he saw her. Tang Shen.

When she was supposed to believe a lie, she eventually saw through it. When she was supposed to feel nothing towards her enemies, she found young love. And when she was supposed to kill the one who ruined their lives, she helped the one whose life he himself ruined. In every way, Karai was just like her mother. Head strong, strong willed, and not on his side. She will never choose him. Just like Tang Shen chose Yoshi, Karai will choose Leonardo and turn her back on him.

He pushed down his feelings; the sadness, the regret, the loneliness. This is the path he himself chose all those years ago. This is the path he will continue on until it destroys him and if it brings down his enemies, all the better.

A humming fills the silence as she rocks back and forth in time with her song. When she gets to the chorus, the humming turns to words.

 _Through it all, through it all,_

 _My eyes are on you_

 _And through it all, through it all_

 _It is well._

 _Through it all, through it all,_

 _My eyes are on you_

 _And it is well_

 _With me._

With the fading tune playing in his head, his eyes drift close, and he dreams of once again running through the fields with his brother.

 **A/N:** Song, It is Well by Kristene DiMarco and Bethel Music


	8. Chapter 7 - Anything is Possible

Chapter 7

It's been three weeks now that he'd been confined to this wrenched bed in this cabin with the woman who played music constantly. That doctor had stopped by again, saying that his broken bones were healing well, but it would take another few weeks before he would be able to walk again.

Ridiculous. There's no way his body would be so weak as to require that long to heal. He'd been concentrating on his healing mantra religiously these days. The woman believes that he's sleeping and leaves him be. He was fine with that. So he retreats deep within himself and focuses his energies on healing.

She was up in the attic right now, where all her so called research is. Who comes out to the middle of no where in order to learn about mushrooms anyway? Sorry, not mushrooms, _fungi._ It seemed pointless. Utterly useless in everyday life. Strength. Strength is what really matters in this world.

 _Anything-anything-anything is_

 _Anything is possible._

He felt his eyebrow twitch. She forgot to turn off her music before she went upstairs. It wouldn't surprise him if she had another player up there too. Usually the music was soft and easy to ignore, but this song in particular had a swing to it that he found rather difficult to tune out.

 _I believe that the one I believe in,_

 _He's the God of the impossible._

He stared at the offending object halfway across the room as the song continued to make his eyebrow twitch.

 _If Love can take a busted heart like mine,_

 _Put it back together every single time,_

 _Turn my mess to a miracle,_

 _Anything is possible._

That's it. He couldn't take it. The bed, the doctor, the constant singing. . . he was going to do something about it. He sat up, continuing to eye the music player.

He'd prove them wrong. He didn't need the bed. His legs didn't need another three weeks. And he was absolutely _sick_ of that accursed music.

He flung the blanket back and placed one foot on the floor, then the other one. He braced himself on the bed and put a bit of pressure on his inured legs. A little pain still, nothing he couldn't handle. A little more weight and he was flinching. He grabbed onto a chair to hold some of his weight and he swore he could hear his bones grating together. He felt his body start to tremble and a bead of sweat formed on his brow.

With a curse, he collapsed back onto the bed, panting hard.

 _She said Mathew, that's my story and I'm sticking to it. It ain't perfect but it must be told. Cuz there's somebody out there with the odd's stacked against them, so write my song and let 'em know._

 _Anything-anything-anything is,_

 _Anything is possible._

Apparently not. It's not possible for his legs to have healed in only three weeks. How pathetic. He's supposed to be stronger than this. Reduced to such a state for such a long period of time. . .

 _If love can fix a busted heart like mine,_

 _Put it back together every single time,_

 _Turn my mess to a miracle,_

 _Anyth—_

Wouldn't that be nice. . .

His last thoughts were fleeting as the exertion caught up with his him and his eyes drifted shut.

 **Oo-oO**

She glared at his prone form as he lay in his bed. He'd tried to get up again. The idiot was just gonna prolong the process. But try as she might, she couldn't seem to fault the man. He had so much weighing on his soul. So much anger and hate, spinning round and round, building up pressure and growing into a monster that feeds off the darkness within.

It was sad, that someone could strive to be so strong only to fall so far.

He would share his stories, but only when prompted. Then he would watch her and gauge her reaction, waiting for her fear or judgement. He knew that what he was doing was fundamentally 'wrong', that it was immoral. He knew he was a villain of sorts and he thought that she would react with the rejection that no doubt many others had shown. But that's not what she was supposed to do. She was supposed to help this man.

It's been weeks since she found him and she was no closer to lifting him out of the darkness he cast himself into.

She slumped into her rocking chair and pulled her legs up to her chest, letting the chair swing back and forth as her mind wandered.

 _God,_ she prayed silently. _How do I help him? Is there even a way to help him? I know he's lost in the darkness, but is my light enough to guide him back? Does he even want to come back? He's been consumed by his anger and hatred for so long that I don't think he even realizes it any more._

 _I just—_

She took a breath and buried her face into her knees without finishing her thought. She stared at nothing for a while, not knowing how she can help this man that she believed was brought to her.

Then her eyes drifted over to the bottom shelf of her book shelf where a thick leather bound photo album rested. She drew her eyebrows together. She hadn't touched it in years. Why was she thinking about it now?

The chair creaked as she stood and shuffled over to the shelf. The book slid easily from its spot and she wiped the accumulated dust particles from the blank cover. Hugging it to her chest, she retreated back to her rocking chair and opened the old picture book in her lap.

Her lungs stopped working as her eyes fell on the pictures of a white dress and smiling faces. Memories from before her life had shattered to pieces flooded back, along with all the pain and sorrow that was brought with it. She closed the book as tears began pricking her eyes.

"How am I supposed help someone when I'm as broken as they are?" she asked God aloud.

From the bed, Saki turned his head to watch her and wondered what was in the photo album that could make such a cheerful woman cry.

Song: _Anything is Possible_ by Matthew West


	9. Chapter 8 - Silence

Chapter 8—Silence

Another week passed, and Saki's continued meditation continued to work slowly, but frustratingly so and the snow slowly starts to melt as the winter season begins to wind down. The sadness that he saw that night was absent the next morning, replaced with the genuine smile and a song in her step.

She would make conversations as they ate together. It wasn't always questions about his life as a ninja, although she did have a way of getting him to reveal little things without him knowing. She would be skilled at interrogation.

It was only after the night he saw her crying that he noticed that while he shared bits about his past, she never offered up pieces of hers. That day, he decided to challenge that.

"What me?" she asked incredulously. "Oh there's nothing too special about my life. Grew up in the city, got a job, didn't work out, moved out here."

"Seems like a tale of some worth," he replied but she simply shrugged and remained silent. He turned his head to look out the window as he pulled out another question that had been weighing on him. "You seem to value family."

She caught off guard by that question. "I suppose."

"You never thought of having one yourself?"

She went ridged at the question. He hadn't expected that reaction. There was definitely a story here. He stayed silent as she began shifting in her chair, not meeting his eyes and absently rubbing her stomach.

"Oh course I have," she stole a glance at him and saw he was staring at her intently. Her lips pressed together as she contemplated telling him. Finally, she sighed and glanced at him before her gaze fell to her hands now fiddling with the hem of her sweater. "It was gonna be perfect," she said, emotion spilling into her voice and she cleared her throat, resolving herself to telling the story and not leaving anything out.

"A long time ago," she began, working to keep her voice steady, "I met a boy. I liked him, he liked me, and it took way too long for us to get together according to some people. In the end, he proposed and we got married." She smiled at the memory, and he thought back to the picture book he didn't get a chance to look at. "It was nice, like a dream come true. I was always the quiet girl in the class, and not many people took notice of me. I was alright with it, I always had my books and my imagination to keep me company. But having someone who said they loved me. . . it just felt like I could fly every time he looked at me. And we were happy.

"It was a little after our first anniversary when I first started feeling sick," her voice became a little quieter as her mind was lost in the past. "I took the test, and found out I was pregnant." Her smile was small, but sad at the same time. "He was so excited. So was I, but he had always dreamed of being a dad. Honestly, it kind of scared me, having another living person inside of me. But at the same time, I cried and thanked God above for this new adventure he was setting out for me. Little did I know, the adventure I thought I was embarking on was different than what he had planned." Her voice turned bitter and her hands turned to fists.

"It happened three months in," now she was struggling to keep her voice even. "It was a regular check up, making sure everything was developing smoothly. The doctor set up the ultrasound, the picture came up on the screen. . . but there was no heartbeat." Her voice cracked and the tears started to well up in her eyes. "They tried to explain that these things happen, that it wasn't my fault, that we could try again. But it didn't matter, because _that_ baby was never going to be born. _That_ baby never had the chance to breathe the air, to see this beautiful world we live in, or to have dreams and work hard to see them accomplished. It just hurt so much that I didn't know what to do." She took a few deep breaths and wiped away some of the tears from her face. Saki watched in silence, letting her compose herself. It took a few moments for her to regain her thoughts and she continued.

"Hal didn't take it well either," her voice cracked. "He didn't seem to understand how the baby could just die like that. He had been looking forward to it so much, that he didn't know what to do now that the baby was gone. Then he started getting mad. He would get mad at every little thing, and start shouting. He would never get violent, but I think it might have been better if he had. He had a way of getting into your head and hitting you where it hurt the most.

"I tried. I really did. But I think something inside of him broke when we lost the baby. He hasn't been the same since. In the end, we got a divorce. I haven't seen him since."

She sniffed as the emotion welled inside and her voice filled with a distant pain. "I remember just crying out, not understanding why God would do something like that. How a God who's supposed to be as great and caring as He, could let something so horrible happen. First my baby then my husband? How could he let my life fall apart? And I was just so lost, I didn't know what to do, where to go?

"I ended up running away. I got in my car and just drove. For hours and hours, I drove until I ran out of gas on the highway in the middle of no where, then I got out and ran into the bush. Wound up almost falling of a cliff. Contemplated jumping off the cliff. Instead I screamed, letting out all the stress and anger and grief that had been piling up since that day in the doctor's office. And I cried until my voice was hoarse and my throat was dry. Then I looked up from by brokenness and looked out over the valley past the cliff."

She went quiet, so he pushed her further. "What did you see?"

She smiled as new tears welled up in her eyes. "The sky was lit up in deep oranges and reds, bouncing around purple clouds and outlining the hills. There was a river that ran through the forest at the bottom of the cliff that glowed with life. The trees were painted with autumn colours and with a breath of wind, the leaves flew up into the air, higher than they naturally should have gone. In those mess of leaves, I swear, I saw God. He danced with the leaves and asked me to trust him.

"And in his presence, in my brokenness, I couldn't do anything other than accept. I was so lost, I wouldn't have managed by myself and I just wanted someone to tell me what to do. So I trusted in him, and then I felt the demon leave me. My hurt, my fear, my anger, hate, despair. . . all gone in a second. Replaced with his hope. His Amazing Grace.

"So things may be bad, but he has a greater plan. A plan that pales in comparison to what I wanted to do. A plan that I never thought I would accomplish. I still don't know what that plan is, or why my baby had to die for it, or even why the man I loved had to leave. I don't know why the life I had, had to be destroyed. But I do know that he will never forsake me."

"Why should you?" he asked. "After everything that's happened, why would cling to Him?"

"Because I have faith," she said. "And there's nothing else for me to trust at this point. My faith is all I have."

"Isn't that lonely?"

"It can be. But at the same time, He's all I really need." She stood up and stretched. "It's late, you should get some sleep. Doc Martin's gonna come up again tomorrow, check on your legs. I think you can probably start walking around soon. Finger's crossed," she smiled and moved to the door, slipping on her boots. "I'm gonna go . . . check that panel. I think it's getting loose, or something . . ."

Song: None


	10. Chapter 9 - I Will Follow

Chapter 9 – I Will Follow

She left the cabin and he sat in the bed with no intention of going to sleep then. He didn't blame her for leaving, for wanting a moment alone. It was a lot to bring up, something she probably hadn't thought about for a long time.

He sat up and strained to look out the window. He managed to catch a glimpse of her running into the woods and knew he couldn't leave enough alone. He clenched his teeth and swung his legs off the bed. He'd be damned if his body would fail him this time. He'd had enough of resting. He'd had enough of sitting around. Enough of 'healing'. He was strong, and he would not let a little pain stop him.

He braced himself as he started putting weight on the casted limbs. He grimaced as the strain increased, but he managed to stand up straight. He tried to take a step, but found his legs a little too wobbly after the weeks of disuse. He managed to latch onto the back of the chair she had been sitting in before hitting the floor.

 _This won't do_ , he cursed himself. Then he spotted a long walking stick propped against the wall. It would serve. He grabbed the stick and slowly made his way to the door, leaning heavily on the walking stick. He managed to get the door open, and for the first time in a month, he felt the wind's chilling breeze on his bare skin. He shivered slightly in the absence of the comforting fire that always burned in the cabin, then set off in the direction he'd seen her disappear.

What snow remained quickly seeped into the large slippers he had managed to fit his casted feet into and his breath came in puffs of mist from his mouth. A branch shook as a squirrel jumped from tree to tree, stopping for a moment to chatter at him before moving on. He sneered at the creature as it disappeared into a burrow.

He continued, realizing that he had no idea where she could have gone. It's not like he knew these forests. But then he heard it. . . The singing.

 _"I know I'm not strong enough to be everything that I'm supposed to be. I give up. I'm not strong enough. Hands of mercy won't you cover me. Lord, right now, I'm asking you to be strong enough . . . for the both of us."_

It wasn't like her normal singing, quiet and always so sure. Now, she wailed out to the heaven's, praying for the strength that she could not muster on her own.

" _Cuz I'm broken down to nothing, but I'm still holding on to the one thing. You are God and you are strong when I am weak. . ._

 _"I can do all things through Christ who gives me strength. And I don't have to be strong enough._

 _"I know._

 _"I can do all things through Christ who gives me strength. And I don't have to be . . . strong enough."_

He found her in a clearing, with her hands reaching to the tree tops and tears streaming down her face. The melody shifted as she jumped into another song.

 _"Sprit lead me where my trust is without boarders. Let me walk upon the waters where ever you would call me. Take me deeper than my feet could ever wander and my faith will be made stronger in the presence of my Saviour."_

She puts her trust in the one who did nothing to stop the tragedies in her life and calls out for guidance. She declares that she will follow him into raging seas where her foothold disappears in the deepening water and she will follow him still.

She falls to her knees, wailing at the sky before repeating the promise.

" _Oh Jesus you're my God, whoa-oa!_

 _"Sprit lead me where my trust is without boarders. Let me walk upon the waters where ever you would call me. Take me deeper than my feet could ever wander and my faith will be made stronger in the presence of my Saviour. . ._

 _"So I will call upon your name and keep my eyes above the waves. When oceans rise, my soul will rest in your embrace. For I am Yours and You are mine."_

Her voice faded into the surrounding trees. She sat on the wet ground, her eyes to the sky for a few moments longer. Then she pulled her legs up to her chest and clung onto them. He stood there, leaning against a tree, watching her try to find her way once again. After a few moments of silence, he pushed off the tree and managed to stumble into the clearing with the help of the walking stick. Her head snapped up at the sound of his movements and she stared with tear streaked eyes as he made his way toward her. He sat down behind her and they leaned against each other's backs.

It was only when he was settled that she said something.

"Stupid," she muttered. "You're gonna break your legs again."

"I'm not so weak," he replied and they lapsed into silence.

"I don't think your bones will agree. You've been lying in bed for weeks. They've probably atrophied by now."

"I know my limits," he replied coarsely as he glared at the forest.

They lapsed into a silence, leaning against each other.

 _Two broken people supporting each other,_ she realized the irony. _Maybe he's not the only one who needs saving. . ._ She tilted her head back to rest on his shoulder.

". . . Sing another one," he said, breaking the silence.

"A request?" she asked surprised. "How unusual."

He didn't respond, just waited. She was silent a moment as she chose a song.

 _"Though the desert be before and there's no relief in sight_

 _Though the enemy is breathing all the lies into my mind_

 _You will always carry me unto my dying day_

 _What you have for me is worth it, cuz I'll see you face to face."_

He understood a little more now, why she had this faith of hers. She believed that even though she may suffer hardships in life, there will be something greater waiting at the end of it all. He didn't agree with these views, not in the slightest, but he had to admit, it was a comforting thought that it wouldn't all be for nothing.

 _"I will follow—follow you where ever you go_

 _And I will listen to the very promises I know_

 _Cuz you are with me, always with me_

 _Keeper of my soul. . ._

 _I will follow—follow you where ever you go."_

 _Strong Enough,_ Mathew West

 _Oceans_ , Hillsong United

 _I Will Follow_ , Jeremy Camp


End file.
